


The Crow: Rebirth

by W_S_Barret



Category: The Crow (1994)
Genre: 90s Goth, Arson, Blood and Gore, Cats, Death, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Female Anti-Hero, Gangs, Ghosts, Grunge, Halloween, Lesbian Relationship, Major Character Undeath, Major character death - Freeform, Murder, Not A Good Role Model, Past Lesbian Relationship, Past Rape/Non-con, Piercings, Resurrection, Revenge killing, Robbery, Tattoos, Violence, devil's night, vengeance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2020-01-12 23:53:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18457199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/W_S_Barret/pseuds/W_S_Barret
Summary: This is my own take on a sequel on the 1994 movie The Crow. This is also dedicated to Brandon Lee. May he rest in peace





	1. The beginning

**_People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right._ **

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_ 3 shots rang out into the night. 17 years to the hour of Eric Draven and Shelly Webster's murders, a similarly brutal double murder took place at Devil's highway. Two women shot dead, one raped and beaten, the other died unidentified. The second woman was rushed to the hospital, barley breathing and badly bleeding, but alive. The first died at the scene, and was given the name Jane Doe of Devils Highway. Later at the hospital the woman was identified as Claire Smith. She died at the stroke of midnight when   Devils night became All Hallows' eve. The murder soon ran cold and was declared unsolved 6 months later.

_*One year later*_

_Dong_. "Caw!" A crow flies onto a tree branch above a cemetery for the unidentified. _Dong._ "Caw!" It turns a beady eye to a gravestone under the tree. _Dong._ The gravestone reads _"Jane Doe of Devil's highway. ????—2011. May you have the peace in death that you did not have in life."_

 _Dong._ A flutter of wings. _Dong._ The crow lands onto the gravestone and watches as the dirt started to shift. _Dong._ Caw! The crow caws and spreads its wings. _Dong_. Rain starts falling over the cemetery. _Dong._ A cloud moves over the full moon, as if all things good and holy are turning a blind eye. _Dong._ It flaps it's wings as if agitated. _Dong._ The crow starts pecking at the gravestone. _Dong._ Caw! _Dong._ As the clock strikes midnight, a hand bursts out of the earth. The crow turns its eye towards the woman dragging herself out of the grave. Just like Eric Draven 18 years ago, she is back to get vengeance for her and her beloved. And just like him, a crow is there to greet her.

Looking around the woman gasps for air. Her once light brown hair, now solid jet black with bits of dark brown graveyard dirt in it. As she turns around to try and figure out her surroundings, she notices the crow perched on top of the gravestone. Reaching out, her fingers brush the gravestone and she is overcome with a flashback of her death.

 _"The motorcycle tipping over. Being shot in her side."_ Fingers trace what should be a hole but get a scar. _"Screaming in pain. Watching, no being forced to watch her love get raped over and over again. Hearing her calling out for her over and over. Helpless to do anything " Vic! Vic help me please!"."_ Screaming out for her. For Claire. _Then a man. Him."_ A name came to mind. Judas. The traitor. _"Then watching him pull out a gun. And firing two shots into her chest. A dead ringer."_

Looking up as it ended, she is confused. Why aren't her bones filled with maggots, and her flesh rotted away. Yet here she is, looking like she hadn't even been injured in the first place. She screams out for her love. For the one person she was supposed to protect but couldn't. The crow caws. She looks up and her gut instinct is to follow it, so she does.

Stumbling into a different graveyard, she collapses against the gravestone that the crow is perched on. A flash of light from the now thunderstorm illuminates the words on it. _"Claire Bella Smith 1990–2011 beloved daughter and sister. May you rest with all your dreams come true."_ Reaching she whispers "Claire. I'm so sorry. I couldn't save you."

When she grasps the headstone a loud caw sounds out. Looking up she sees the crow perched on top of a different gravestone. Stumbling over she notices that the earth underneath one of them is also disturbed; just like her own. _"Eric Draven"_ reads the disturbed grave and _"Shelly Webster"_ is next to it. "Rest Together In Peace Eric Draven and Shelly Webster." she murmurs, wincing slightly at how raspy and gravely her voice was. Glancing back at the crow she says "I know where I need to go now." All it does is caw hoarsely in response and flies off.

* * *

 

Heading after it she stumbles down a few alleys, ditching her shoes and pulling off the shirt and jacket that she was buried in and picks up an old pair of combat boots. Soon afterwards she finds herself at the door of Sarah Monster's tattoo parlor, the crow landing on her shoulder. Raising her hand to knock she finds that the door is already unlocked. Heading inside she rings the bell, causing voices inside to stop and footsteps to head in her direction. A punk-y woman with blond hair, shaved on both sides stepped to the counter.

"Sorry lady we're closed. Especially tonight."

"I'm Looking for Sarah Monster. You know her?"

"I am her. You here for a tattoo or something?"

"No. I need some help. I don't know what the fucks going on any for some fucking reason you were the first person to come to mind."

"Fine. come in the back. By the way I never got your name, What is it?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because a random woman whose name I don't know just stumbled into my shop and--"

At that point a masculine voice rings out "Victoria Lee Burton. I've been waiting." At this point she notices a man sitting in a chair. "You've been brought back to avenge yourself and someone else. Believe me I know how you feel."

"Who-"

"My name is Eric Draven. Let me explain."


	2. Don't look don't look the shadows breathe

 Sitting in the chair that Sarah has just vacated to get something from the back, she says  "Alright then. Explain."

    "It's a long story but to make it short, 18 years ago me and my fiancée were murdered. She was raped and beaten and I was stabbed, shot, and thrown out of a window. A year later I returned and killed the bastards who did it. You know Top Dollar? Officially he went insane and killed the people who worked for him, then committed suicide by jumping onto a gargoyle from a church roof. In actuality I hunted them all down and killed them. One by one."

    "Yeah. Good thing I already know who did it. A few old friends of mine who I thought I could trust with shit. Guess they decided that I was no longer useful to them and their little plans. So they killed me and my girlfriend.  She went the same way as your fiancée and I was shot, stabbed, and my leg was crushed under the motorcycle."

    The conversation is interrupted by Sarah walking back in. Dumping a file down on the table, she says "I managed to get your girlfriend and your files from the police. They nicknamed you Jane Doe of Devil's highway. Also got you some clothes, figured you'd want to change out of those wet ones. Bathroom is in the back."

    Getting off the table and grabbing the clothes, the girl, Victoria, heads to the bathroom. Her voice echoing slightly "Thank you for the clothes and your help. Also call me Vic."

  _“Don't look, don't look,' the shadows breathe_  
_Whispering me away from you_  
_Don’t wake at night to watch her sleep_  
_You know that you will always loose_  
_This trembling adorned_  
_Tousled birdmad girl”_

As she is getting changed, picking up Victoria's file Eric says "Let's take a look at this. I'd like to know more about her." Rifling through he seems a bit shocked at the brutality of her death.

_Name: Jane Doe of Devil's highway_  
_DOB: N/A_  
_DOD: 10-30-11_  
_Age: Appears to be mid to late 20's_  
_Height: 6'4"_  
_Weight: 178 lbs_  
_Build: Lean and muscular_  
_Sex: Female_  
_Ethnic background: Western European. Possibly Irish and/or German_  
_Hair: Light brown_  
_Eyes: Green_  
_Family:_  
_Father: N/A_  
_Mother: N/A_  
_Siblings: N/A_  
_Religion: Judaism(?)_  
_Identifying traits: Septum and Ear piercings (metal silver?),Wrist tattoo in Hebrew, Tattoos on arms and neck, but cut off or burned to prevent identification though small section of what appears to be a Star of David visible on upper left arm, along with more Hebrew._  
_Clothing:Motorcycle boots, Socks, Jean pants, T-shirt of band called Darkthrone(?), leather jacket, gloves, Motorcycle helmet_  
_Educational background: N/A_  
_Occupation: N/A_  
_Residence: Most likely inner-city Detroit_  
_Cause of death/injuries: Burn wounds (non-fatal), Stab wounds on arms and torso(not immediately fatal), gunshot to hip (non-fatal), gunshots to pulmonary artery (fatal within seconds)_  
  
_“But every night I burn_  
_Every night I call your name_  
_Every night I burn_  
_Every night I fall again”_

 Sarah gasps slightly, setting down the file as Eric leafs through the rest of it, tears rolling down his cheeks as he reads it. The crow on his shoulder caws hoarsely. Sarah looks up at him and rests her hand on his other shoulder, and squeezes slightly.

    "Holy shit. She went through hell. No wonder she's back for revenge."

    Eric picks up the other file "I'm going to guess that Albrecht gave you these, cause this case reminds him of mine. Bet he's working himself to the bone, cause he's trying to solve this one."

    "Nah he’s retired. His protege gave me these. He’s a good man. They both are. Now be quiet I'm trying to read this."  


_“Oh don't talk of love, " the shadows purr_  
_Murmuring me away from you_  
_Don't talk of worlds that never were_  
_The end is all that's ever true_  
_There's nothin' you can ever say_  
_Nothin' you can ever do"_  
  
_Name: Claire Bella Smith_  
_DOB: 6-21-90_  
_DOD: 10-30-11_  
_Age: 28_  
_Height: 5'11"_  
_Weight: 159_  
_Build: Lean_  
_Sex: Female_  
_Ethnic background: Nigerian American_  
_Hair: Brown_  
_Eyes: Hazel_  
_Family:_  
_Father: Nick Smith_  
_Mother: Anna Smith nee Jones_  
_Siblings: Jamia Sidney Smith_  
_Identifying traits: small tattoo of ivy on right wrist_  
_Clothing: White T-Shirt, Jeans, socks, boots_  
_Educational background: Graduated University of Michigan_  
_Occupation: Photographer, Florist_  
_Residence: 800 Walem street Detroit_  
_Cause of death/injuries: Gangrape (non-fatal), Punctured lung from broken rib (mortal), Fractured skull (mortal), Slit throat (Immediately fatal)_  
  


Eric nearly starts crying, as he reads the file. Only being broken out of his stupor at the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing. Sarah gets up and walks over to Vic, as the sound of the boots she is wearing, hit the floor. Sarah hands her Claire's file, with a simple "You should read this." 

    As Victoria starts reading the file, she collapses into an empty chair behind her. They can only watch as tears start to fall down her cheeks and onto the pages, staining them. She sets it on a table, standing up and saying “I need to go.” Before running off into the night. 

_ “Still every night I burn _ _  
_ _ Every night I scream your name _ _  
_ _ Every night I burn _ _  
_ __ Every night the dream's the same”

Somehow, Victoria arrives at her and Claire’s apartment building. It looked dilapidated and abandoned. Climbing the fire escape, she reached the second to last level, and notices that she’s at the apartment for the landlady. She was a sweet old lady named Ms. Peggy. Now the place looks abandoned and a bit ransacked. 

    “Sorry Ms. Peggy.” Victoria whispers before breaking the window and climbing in. Picking the glass shards out of her hands and arms Victoria watches as the little puncture wounds heal, and leave no trace. Not even a scratch and they didn’t hurt. 

    "What the-oh right. Resurrected spirit of vengeance.”

    Pounding up the stairs two at a time, her legs burned. Arriving at her old apartment, she notices that the paper witch from Claire's childhood still hanging on the door. Victoria smiles sadly looking at it, remembering on how Claire insisted on putting it up every year. Pushing the door open, she notices that the apartment had been riffled through and most things of value had been taken.  

    Opening up the closet she pulled out a battered, sticker covered suitcase. Opening it she grabbed a pair of shirt and pants. Pulling off the clothes Sarah gave her, she switched it out for ripped jeans and a Mayhem shirt. Walking up to the chipped and scratched vanity, she sees that Claire's makeup kit was still covering the surface. 

* * *

  _"Every night I burn_  
_Waiting for my only friend_  
_Every night I burn_  
_Waiting for the world to end"_

 Hearing a meow, Victoria turns around and sees a fluffy black cat, walking towards her from an old, cobwebbed wedding dress. She smiles as it twists around her legs. Petting it she closes up the suitcase, saying "Hey Salem. I had to change cause Sarah gave me clothes that are too small." Sitting on the stool she remembers a look Claire once painted on her for the first Halloween they celebrated together at the apartment _. _

* * *

_     Victoria snuck up behind Claire wrapping her arms around her, causing her to shriek in surprise. Smiling Victoria kissed her girlfriend's cheek.  _

_     "What are you doing Vicky? I'm trying to prepare for Halloween." _

_     "Can't I kiss my girlfriend? Besides we don't get a lot of trick or treaters around here. So the prep doesn't really need to happen." _

_     That response ended up with Victoria getting hit in the head with pumpkin guts. Laughing she picked up a towel, and after wiping the orange guts off attempted to place it on Claire's head. Shrieking again, Claire batted the towel away. Washing her hands, she smiled and said “Sit down Vicky. I want to do your makeup.” _

_     “Alright. What are you going to do?" _ _  
_

_     “Mmmmmmmm something like Pierrot makeup. Or Eric Draven." _

_     “Eric Draven? Isn’t that a legend they tell children to get them to behave? I know that the murder is real, but the rest of it can’t be true.” _ _  
_ _  
_ __     “I find it romantic. Coming back from the dead to avenge your lover.”

_     “Okay fine. I can’t wait to see it.” _

_      Smiling Claire pulled up a chair and opened a can of white makeup. Victoria had to resist smiling when Claire rubbed it over her face. As Claire ran the lipstick over her face, Vic couldn't resist smiling causing Claire to jokingly whine "Vicky don't smile. You're going to mess it up." _

_     "I can't help it, it tickles. You know I don’t wear makeup.” _

_     “I can’t believe you. Come here.” _

_     Setting the makeup aside, Claire got up and turned on the radio. A song came issuing through the speakers. Victoria smiled recognizing it. She got up as Stevie Nicks voice flowed through the apartment. Victoria attempted to grab Claire’s hands and dance with her, to the sound of Rhiannon.  _

_     “Babe. Sit down; I gotta finish your makeup.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _     “Fine. A kiss first please?” _ __  


_     Laughing Claire kissed her, and steered her back to the vanity. Sitting down Victoria closed her eyes and let her girlfriend use eyeliner to draw over her face. When it started to trace over her cheekbones, she had an idea about what her girlfriend had modeled her makeup after. _

_     “Aand done! You can look now.” _

_     Opening her eyes Victoria looked in the mirror, and saw that her makeup resembled a cross between corpse paint and Pierrot. With jagged eye makeup, reminiscent of Mayhem’s vocalist Per Ohlin, though a few more jagged spikes on the cheekbones, and black lipstick with lines coming off the sides, making it look like she was smiling, even if she wasn’t.  _

_     “Baby it looks amazing. I love it.” _

_     “I’m so glad you like it. I did my best.” _

* * *

 

 Screaming out, she knocks most of what was on the vanity off. Rubbing her eyes she looks up and sees a black and white photograph of her and Claire on their first Halloween together. One of the few things that wasn’t removed after they died. Slamming her hand into the mirror, cracks snake across the surface. Breathing heavily, Victoria looks over, hearing Salem’s incessant meowing. 

_“Just paint your face the shadows smile_  
_Slipping me away from you_  
_Oh it doesn’t matter how you hide_  
_Find you if we’re wanting to_  
_So slide back down and close your eyes_  
_Sleep awhile you must be tired”_

Shakily she reaches over and opens up an old tin of white face paint. Getting a good amount on her fingers, she rubs it on her face. Grabbing a small pot of eyeliner, she unscrews the lid, and slowly starts painting the jagged lines down her face. Dragging the brush across her cheeks, she makes it look as if she is perpetually smiling. Filling in the lines around her lips, Victoria looked back into the shattered mirror.

    Dropping the tube Victoria’s shoulders shake as she tries to keep from crying. Staring back at her own reflection, she can’t help but let the tears roll down her cheeks. Collecting herself, she looks up, glaring at the cracked reflection. A single thought crossing her mind, as she stands up.  _ “I am going to get revenge.” _ And the skies opened up, spilling out the rain as if the whole world felt her need for vengeance, as a scream of grief and rage wrent the air.

_“But every night I burn_  
_Every night I call your name_  
_Every night I burn_  
_Every night I fall again_  
_Evry night I burn_  
_Scream the animal scream_  
_Every night I burn_  
_Dream the crow black dream”_  



	3. Dead souls keep calling me

The gang that had murdered her, is sitting in a bar called The Crow’s Nest just a few blocks away from the apartment; completely unaware that one of their victims is back from the dead to seek vengeance. They are drinking and laughing, high on the thrill that comes with getting away with crime. One of them calls out “Hey Baby. Why don’t you take a break and come sit with us? My lap’s a hell of a lot more comfortable than these damn barstools.” to a server who clearly looks uncomfortable at him hitting on her. 

One of the others shouts out “Ay Eddie. Let the girl go. Nobody wants to see your ugly ass dick.”

Eddie turns around and stares at the man before pulling out his gun and pointing it under his chin. Looking him straight in the eye he asks “You wanna say that again Hotshot? Cause I’ll blow your fucking brains out.” 

The man called Hotshot rolls his eyes and mutters “Yeah. Yeah you say that every time but can’t shoot worth shit. I bet that shits not even loaded.” 

“Are you sure about that. Wanna test it? Bet you’re not so tough when you got a gun under your chin”

A third man stands up and pulls two more guns out and points it at Hotshot and Eddie saying “Which one of you Motor-City motherfuckers wants to find out if these ones aren’t.” He then laughs and points them to the ceiling, thrusting them up as if to shoot up the ceiling. Their drunken shouts echo across the seedy dive bar.

An older waitress comes over carrying a tray of drinks, having taken over for the young girl Eddie was harassing earlier. She looks tired and worn out, and in the stark light old scarred over track marks line her forearms. “Put your guns away boys. Especially you Sweeny. This is a bar not a fucking firing range or alleyway. Besides Judas is here and he wants to talk to you.”

Sweendy grinned and spat at her before lowering the guns he had pointed at Eddie and Hotshot. “Fuck you Darla. ‘Sides Why’d Judas make the trip all the way down to this shithole for the second year in a row. Last time it was cause that bitch betrayed us.”

“How the fuck would I know? He just told me to get your lazy asses up. Maybe it’s cause he believes in that fucking Eric Draven legend or some shit. Now pay your tab or you won’t be let back in. After all the shit you idiots have pulled.”

“Fine. Have your fucking money you bitch. Let’s go see what Judas wants boys. Cheers to Devils Night.” As the words left his mouth, Sweeny stubbed the lit cigarette onto the table leaving a dirty greyish-black stain  on the wooden surface.

* * *

 

The second floor of The Crow’s Nest is off limits to all but those who are affiliated, or with Judas’s gang. While it spans most of the mid-east, primarily Michigan, Wisconsin, Ohio, and Indiana, the primary headquarters are located in Detroit. The large windows that line the second floor, giving a view of the city that Judas will often use to his advantage, and to plot out where his gang will hit next.

Currently he is staring out that window, pondering what he is going to do tonight. Already he can see a fire starting to bloom, signifying the start of devil’s night. A bullet turns over and over, moving constantly through the fingers of his right hand. Judas won’t lie that tonight his thoughts are straying to the legend of The Crow. Kill two people so in love that one of them comes back for revenge? That legend’s ridiculous. 

Though the final words of the traitor he and his gang killed last year, stay true to the legend  _ “I swear to whatever’s out there Judas that if you kill us, I will come back for revenge! Kill us and by Halloween next year, you and those fucking bastards will be dead! I swear on it Judas! Do you hear me you bastard ?!” _ Poor Victoria, looks like she wouldn’t be keeping her word. He’s still here and she’s six feet under, still considered a Jane Doe. Smiling to himself, he can’t help but think that the whole legend is a bunch of bullshit. 

The door to his office/apartment is burst open, jarring him from his thoughts. Ah yes, looks like Sweeny and those little street rats he enlisted to kill Victoria managed to pull their drunken heads out of their asses long enough to come upstairs. Now to see how long one makes a mistake. Again.

“You wanted to see us Boss?” 

“Yes I wanted to see your drunken asses just to make sure the pigs in blue still aren’t on our trail again. After what I heard happened last year during the Christmas time season, it appears that your love for alcohol is greater than your sense of self preservation!” Judas stated angrily, slamming his hands down on the table. 

The 4th man in the small group speaks up with a bit of a slur. “Hey boss are you sure it’s not cause of killing that chick and her girlfriend last year and the Eric Draven myth? C-cause they say when something similar happened to him, he came back and slaughtered the entire gang that did that to him.”

Judas smiles chuckling slightly at the statement. “Oh but Ace my friend, we are not like Top Dollar and his little gang. For one I don’t fuck my sister, and two he was sloppy and knew the police were catching up with him, so he staged it and spread that rumor around to give an excuse on why he went cukoo. And one more thing. There is no legend of The Crow so GET THAT FUCKING BULLSHIT MYTH OUT OF YOUR HEAD!”

He glares at the 5 men huddled in front of him, as if daring them to speak. Walking back around the table, he mimes rifling through the mess of papers and books that lay there. Making it seems as if he has found what he needs, Judas looks up with a smirk, scaring the gathered men slightly. 

“Now.” He begins, the smile on his face growing as he starts to explain. “We are going to reclaim this shithole of a city and make it something glorious. Top Dollar tried and failed, Draven legend or not. We will not make his mistakes, and you will not screw this shit up! UNDERSTAND?!”

At the last word a crack of thunder echoed across the city, echoing the rage in his voice.

* * *

 A slightly wet thud sounds on a rooftop a few buildings over. In the orange shadows cast by the street and building lamps, a woman can be seen slipping on the wet roof ledge of a building. A crow could be seen staring down at her as she falls, probably thinking _“Dumbass."_  

Victoria could feel herself slipping on a wet ledge, and reaches out grasping at anything that could stop her fall. Unfortunately she couldn’t find anything and lands rather loudly on a fire-escape balcony. A dog barks somewhere from in the apartment and she hears loud footsteps running to the window next to it. 

A voice sounds out “Who the fuck?” before the window is opened and the owner of the apartment thrusts their head out of the window. She could feel her eyes going wide, as the guy looks up and quietly chokes out “Victoria?” 


	4. It can't rain all the time

A slightly wet thud sounds on a rooftop a few buildings over. In the orange shadows cast by the street and building lamps, a woman can be seen slipping on the wet roof ledge of a building. A crow could be seen staring down at her as she falls, probably thinking “Dumbass.”

Victoria could feel herself slipping on a wet ledge, and reaches out grasping at anything that could stop her fall. Unfortunately she can’t find anything and lands rather loudly on a fire-escape balcony. A dog barks somewhere from in the apartment and she hears loud footsteps running to the window next to it. 

A voice sounds out “Who the fuck?” before the window is opened and the owner of the apartment thrusts their head out of the window. She can feel her eyes going wide, as the guy looks up and quietly chokes out “Victoria?” 

Victoria stands up from where she fell on the fire escape and stares in shock at the guy poking his head out of the window. His hair has gotten longer, he’s gotten a few more piercings, but there’s no way she’d ever mistake that face.

“Virgil?”

“Holy shit. Victoria is that really you?” 

“Yeah. Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

Virgil moves away from the window, and Victoria clambers through, trying not to break anything or fall. Pulling herself through the window, she notices that the apartment appears that Virigil got more plants and wall decorations of moths. 

“Tea? I’ve got the kettle on.”

“Yeah. Thanks man.”

“No problem. You know it’s weird to see your childhood best friend sitting here, after they’re supposed to have passed a year ago. I heard that you had died, but I could never find your grave. Found Claire’s though. I’ve got a few of your guy’s things in storage if you want them.”

“Well they never figured out who I was, so I’m buried in the unidentified cemetery. Just look for the Jane Doe of Devil’s Highway one. ‘Sides I’m dead, what use do I have for them? But thank you for the offer. I truly appreciate it.”

“Kinda sorry to deviate from what you’re talking about, but did you meet Eric Draven? Now I know for certain that the legend is true cause you’re here, but did you?”

“Yeah. He was around when I first woke up. Gave me some clothes and told me what happened. It was kinda rough, but at the same time it was nice to talk with someone who understands, y’know?”

“Bet that must of helped. It must have been really disorentating, coming back like that. Did you puke? Here’s your tea.”   


“No you shithead. But I thought I might. Thanks man.”

Victoria looks up as Virgil sits down and hands her a mug of tea, Malyshka curled up next to him on the couch, a moth toy halfway in her mouth getting drooled on. He smiles as she reaches over and pets her behind the ears causing her tail to wag and thump against the couch.

“It’s odd you know.”

“What’s odd?”

“Death. Dying really tends to put things into perspective. I used to think about how unfair it is that we die when we do. But after passing and going to the afterlife, I’ve begun to appreciate morality for what it is. We die when we die. Doesn’t matter if it’s as a child, as an old person, or in between. We get what everyone gets. We get a lifetime. No more; no less. We get a lifetime.”

“Have you been reading The Sandman comics again? ‘Cause you’re really starting to sound like Death.”

“Virgil you dumbass. I’ve been dead for a year. How the fuck could I have read The Sandman while dead. And before you say anything, maybe I could have because I remember jack ass shit about the afterlife.”

Virgil gives that slightly hiccupy laugh that somehow always makes her smile. Fuck she’s missed him, however well you could miss someone after being dead and in a place you can barely remember. Reaching over she scratches Malyshka behind the ears, causing her tail to thump lazily on the couch. The last time Malyshka and her had seen each other was when Malyshka could fit into the little circle that her legs make, when she sits criss cross.

“You know I got chickens upstairs. Landlord finally let me as long as I keep it clean and give him a few eggs. It’s nice, and as close to a farm, or a place away from people as I can get.”

“Until you move to Oregan or Washington, whichever fucking state it is. Just gotta complete your nature conservation degree.” 

“Oh yeah that. The Washington Parks Service contacted me after seeing my paper on the Blinded Sphinx Moth. They offered me a starter job once I’m done with college. I’m pretty excited about getting away from this hellhole of a city. Malyshka would love to get out and run in the parks; wouldn’t you pupper? Oh yes. Yes you would. Yes you would you precious little pupper.” 

Vic smiles at the sight of Virgil squishing Malyshka’s cheeks together and petting her all over so her tail thumps against the couch. The scene reminds her of the times when they would all hang out together watching some bad B list movie and talking shit about people in the college. Remembering it makes some place in her chest ache with that hollow pain one gets from grief. It doesn’t feel complete without Claire sitting next to her in the green armchair taking a picture of the cute, dorky scene. 

She groans and grips her head, feeling a headache coming on. The small noise catches Virgil’s attention, but before he can get to her, she is thrown into a flashback.

* * *

_All three of them are sitting on the cheap furniture in Virgil’s apartment watching some cheesy romcom and laughing at how stupid it is. What was it again? When Harry Met Sally? Or maybe something else. She can’t remember. All she knows it that she’s sitting on the couch making fun of how bad the movie is, when Virgil gives a shout._   
  
_He had been petting Malyshka, and in her happiness she had started wagging her tail and accidentally hit him in the face. Jumping up he shouts “Mal. No. We don’t hit people in the face.”_   
  
_Vic laughs and says, in between giggles “Virgil. Lay off her. She’s only a little puppy she doesn’t know any better. And you deserve a treat don’t you girl?”_   
  
_At the sound of the word treat, Malyshka’s ears perk up and she starts wagging her tail again. Virgil chases after her to try to keep her from giving Malyshka a treat, while Claire snorts in delight at the scene taking place in front of her._   
  
_“Oh shit this is hilarious. I gotta take a picture.”_   
  
_Vic laughs again at Virgil’s panicked shout of No! Is someone calling her? She can hear her name being shouted over and over again. The person sounds panicked and there’s a dog whining in distress? What? What’s going on?_

* * *

 “Victoria? Victoria? Victoria are you alright? Can you hear me? What’s going on? Vic can you talk?” She groans raising her head up enough to see Virgil crouched over her looking concerned, and Malyshka’s head is on her leg with her favorite moth toy in her lap. 

She hears her own voice say “I’m fine. I’m fine Virgil.” Did she always sound that disoriented? A sense of panic rises up in her when she can’t find Claire. Where’s Claire? The panic turns to grief when she remembers Claire’s dead. Claire’s dead and she’s here and she’s going to kill the people that killed them. 

    Rolling her head back she stared at the ceiling and breathed  _ “In. Out. In. Out.” _ She knows who she’s going to kill first. Eddie. That fuckin rapist who flirted with anything that had two legs. The disgusting pervert always made her skin crawl. ‘Sides the streets would be safer with him gone first. She smiles a crazy smile, thinking of how she’s going to make him suffer the way his victims suffered. 

“Vic? Are you alright?” Was she alright? She was fine. Just fine. Dropping her head, she looks at Virgil, and pulls him into a tight hug. This would be the last time he would see her. At the very least see his friend, and not her darker side. The side that was with Judas and his gang. The Crow would be coming out soon and there wouldn’t be a pretty aftermath.

She mumbles into his shoulder “I gotta go alright? But take care of Salem for me will you? I love you Virgil and I’m gonna miss you.” Before he can say anything, she pulls away from the embrace and gets up. Moving over to the window, Vic gives Malyshka a rub behind the ears, who whines when she realizes that her friend isn’t staying here. Opening the window she climbs out onto the fire escape and is about to get up to the roof before she hears Virgil’s voice calling her. 

“Vicky one second before you go.”

She looks at him, as the rain is falling and chilling her to the bone. He looks sad at seeing her leave, but resigned as well. Like he knows that she has to do what she was brought back to do. His lip is trembling, she can see that as he walks over to the window. She stands there a little stunned as he clambers out onto the fire escape and pulls her into a second hug.

“Don’t worry I’ll take care of Salem. I’m really going to miss you. Goodbye Victoria Lee Burton. I love you too.” 

With the goodbye hanging in the air, she climbs up the rusty latter to the roof. Backing up to the opposite edge, a caw sounds out. The crow is sitting there, on top of the chicken coop staring at her with a look. Staring back she mumbles to the crow, but more to herself. “Stop that. You and I both know that the goodbye was necessary. Besides it’s better than just leaving without saying anything.”

She starts running towards the edge, before stepping one foot onto the ledge, and jumping to the next roof. It isn’t until she’s a block away does she let herself start crying, ugly sniffling sobs that wrack her body. A part of her, she realizes, doesn’t want to go. It wants to stay here, with Virgil and Malyshka and Salem. But she knows that she can’t stay here. She doesn’t belong here anymore. And that’s part of what hurts. That no matter if she has a normal life here, she will never belong.

Straightening up, and wiping away the tears, she steels herself to get what she came here to do. Get revenge so that her and Claire’s souls can have peace in the afterlife.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to write the memory as slightly disorientating


End file.
